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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541274">Mud Through My Veins</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra'>Fudgyokra</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Avatar: Legend of Korra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Dark, F/M, Noncontober, Rough Oral Sex, Sexual Coercion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 07:01:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,495</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26541274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fudgyokra/pseuds/Fudgyokra</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tarrlok makes Korra a deal.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Korra/Tarrlok (Avatar)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kinktober 2020 [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1930009</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>42</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Mud Through My Veins</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Takes place mid-S1E8 during Korra’s conversation with Tarrlok, before the bloodbending scene.</p><p>Title from In This Moment’s “Blood” because…yeah.</p><p>Day 12: Coercion/<strike>Blackmail<strike></strike></strike></p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Look, I’ll make you a deal,” Tarrlok says to her, surrounded by his defenses of stone and pharisaicalness. “You fall in line and do what I say, and I’ll release your friends.”</p><p>Korra’s instinctive response is to tell Tarrlok where he can shove it. Instead, she weighs her options carefully—a page taken from Tenzin that she wishes in this moment she still had the negligence to ignore.</p><p>She decides quickly that she can’t say no, not to an offer this simple. Her friends are on the line, and each of them are key facets in her plan of action against Amon. She <em>can’t </em>say no. She just can’t.</p><p>She doesn’t.</p><p>Tarrlok’s smile is slow and thin, lacking in any real warmth. What it does have, bountifully, is the kind of oily self-satisfaction that Korra has come to expect from him, plus an edge of predatory thirst that only deepens the closer he gets to her. He stretches several seconds to his leisure in his prowl across the room, and by the end he stands nearly toe to toe with her in the center of it.</p><p>Korra is not ignorant. She knows by the change in the air alone what he wants from her, but it’s the knowledge she’s going to give it to him that makes the dread sink in heavier.</p><p>Tarrlok reaches up to touch one of the beads in her hair. “You’ve caused me a great deal of trouble, Avatar. What do you think is a worthy trade for my generosity in letting those lawbreakers go?”</p><p>She understands this play, too. If she feigns ignorance or rejects his obvious advances, he’ll count that as defiance, voiding the deal. He expects her to say it first, like it was her idea, preventing her from later accusing him of precisely what he’s doing.</p><p><em>Pig, </em>she does not say by force of will. Maybe Tenzin would have been proud of her temper control, if nothing else about how she’s handling this situation.</p><p>“The deal is that I do what you say, isn’t it? Consider me on board.”</p><p>Tarrlok leers overtly enough that Korra’s lip rescinds in a snarl, but it does not (can not) stop her from getting on her knees. “I knew you were smart,” he says, wickedly sated by the picture she must make.</p><p>Right now, she’s looking up at the man who has preyed on a city scared to lose their lives, their bending, and their freedom. More than that, he is the avaricious winner of an uphill battle, and not the one he’s waging with the Equalists. He has his most stubborn dissenter right where he wants her.</p><p>One day, she’s gonna have him at <em>her </em>feet, just to return the favor. She fantasizes about the day he’ll be led away in cuffs, stuck in a cell for the rest of his life, and before the cops close the cage, she’s going to spit right in his fucking face.</p><p>The daydream is enough to keep her mind off what she’s doing for as long as it takes to undo the cloth belt around Tarrlok’s waist and reach beneath his tunic for the band of his pants. The belt, a Water-Tribe-blue ribbon, flutters to the ground, juxtaposed with the heavy drop of gray fabric around his ankles. Korra stares resolutely at the jumbled materials until she is no longer able.</p><p>“Well, Avatar? I’m waiting. Impress me.”</p><p>She almost wishes he wouldn’t call her that, but dismisses it as a less stinging blow than any of the derogatory things she’s sure he thinks of when he imagines her.</p><p>Ignoring the bite of bald rage that flickers inside her ribs, she curls her hand around his length. It’s disturbingly heavy and hot to the touch. It is also already completely erect, which she wants to ridicule him about but can’t make herself do any more than she can convince her stomach to stop sending her brain signals to dry-heave.</p><p>It only takes half a dozen strokes to get him wet. A bead of precum collects at his slit, then drips to the curve of her wrist and down her arm. An impetus she can’t quell urges her to go faster, twisting on every upswing now like she’d once caught Bolin doing in the showers after a match. Curiosity always gets the best of her; sickeningly, it has even extended to this.</p><p>Following a flutter of lashes, her eyes widen the barest bit when Tarrlok responds to her efforts with a strangely soft moan. As surprising as it is, the vulnerability is a short-lived ploy. In the coming seconds, she feels his hand wrap tightly around her ponytail, which he uses to drag her face toward his groin. His tip, still damp, bumps her pursed lips and glides across her reddening cheek.</p><p>“Go on,” he urges, “show me what you’re willing to do to bail out those insurrectionary little rats.”</p><p>In lieu of spitting in his face, she hocks onto the organ looming in front of her with a nasty sound, taking an ounce of delight in the way he grimaces. Little victories matter, especially against him.</p><p>Still, she loses ground the moment she parts her lips. He unceremoniously shoves his way between them, skidding across her tongue and plunging down her throat quick and far enough to make her gag. She doesn’t expect him to be decent, but it still makes her eyes water when he doesn’t pause in the slightest, using her mouth to his satisfaction until it produces sounds she can’t block out. Everything is slick and noisy, blurry and aching.</p><p>After a while, her eyes lose focus. There’s not much she can readily think about besides the saliva bubbling past the corners of her stretched mouth, leaking down her chin to the stone below. Her hands don’t do much else besides anchor to Tarrlok’s hips where they piston back and forth, driving his length shallowly against her abused throat.</p><p>When she groans, it’s from misuse, but he echoes in pleasure, anyway.</p><p>“I always knew you were loyal to a fault,” he says breathlessly. He is speaking less <em>to </em>her and more <em>at </em>her, but she makes herself listen if only to block out her own choked warbling. As he goes on, he grasps at the back of her neck, pulling her in so that he slides deeper this time. She gags hard enough that she’s afraid she’s going to vomit, and the swelling burn of bile takes precedence to being pissed at him for reading her.</p><p>“Do those criminals even deserve you?” This time the words are almost fond, even in spite of the unflattering way he refers to her companions. “Those boys have been a thorn in the side of Republic City’s law enforcement for years. Petty crimes, but never caught. Would they do what you’re doing right now to save you, I wonder?”</p><p>She closes her eyes, feeling for the first time how her lashes are clumped together, wet from reflexive tears that have long since dried on her cheeks. “I have to admit, Miss Sato is a surprise.” Her eyes screw tighter. “She seemed like such a nice girl. A shame to see her so disposed to defiance.”</p><p>Korra thinks about her friends in their cells, resolves even more stubbornly to hold on and do what Tarrlok likes, no matter how he gets under her skin.</p><p>His breaths are coming in pants now. She steels herself, expecting him to finish down her throat, but he drags in a sharp gasp and pulls himself out in time to dirty her face, warm wet stripes meant to shame her.</p><p>She swallows against the raw sting in her throat and works to assemble her features into a glare.</p><p>Tarrlok sighs contentedly, his shoulders slumping as he relaxes into the gleaming success of what he has done. His grin is lazier than before, but no less daunting.</p><p>“Brilliant,” he drawls. “You did well.”</p><p>“I did what I had to,” she spits, unable to maintain her previous placidity. “Now let my friends go.”</p><p>In the near-silence of Tarrlok arranging his clothes back into the proper order, Korra wipes her scowling face with the backs of her hands. Finally, the man takes a single step back, regarding her where she remains knelt.</p><p>“I’m afraid I’ve reconsidered the specifics of my offer.”</p><p>Korra’s eyes lift, searing with the rage that blossoms inside her. Darkly, she says, “Excuse me?”</p><p>Tarrlok’s own eyes glint beneath the building’s light. “I think I’ll hold onto your friends a little while longer, just to make sure our deal still stands.”</p><p>“It doesn’t.”</p><p>That, at least, gets him to furrow his brows.</p><p>Korra rises slowly to her feet. “The deal is off, Tarrlok.”</p><p>He opens his mouth to speak. She doesn’t let him. Instead, she does the only thing left that’s worth doing: She flexes her hands, summoning slabs of stone from the floor below as her weapon, and she fights.</p>
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